A Quest of Heroes (Book #1 in the Sorcerer's Ring)

see.
    “It
must have flown into the trees when you were hoisted up,” Thor answered.
    “Wherever
it is, it’s gone now,” Reece said. “You’ll never find it.”
    “But
you don’t understand,” Elden pleaded. “The Legion. There is just one rule.
Never leave your weapon behind. I can’t return without it. I would be ousted!”
    Thor
turned and searched the ground again, searched the trees, looking everywhere.
But he could see absolutely no sign of it. Reece and O’Connor just stood there,
not bothering to look.
    “I’m
sorry,” Thor said, “I don’t see it.”
    Elden
scrambled everywhere, then finally gave up.
    “It’s your fault,” he, pointing at Thor. “You got us into this mess!”
    “No
I didn’t,” Thor replied. “You did! You ran for the flag. You pushed us all out
of the way. You have no one to blame but yourself.”
    “I
hate you!” Elden screamed.
    He
charged Thor, grabbing him by the shirt, knocking him down to the ground. The
weight of him caught Thor off guard. Thor managed to spin around, but Elden
spun again and pinned Thor down. Elden was just too big and strong, and it was
too hard to hold him back.
    Suddenly,
though, Elden let go and rolled off. Thor heard the sound of a sword being
extracted from his scabbard, and looked up and saw Reece standing over Elden,
holding the tip of his sword at his throat.
    O’Connor
reached over and gave Thor a hand, and pulled him quickly to his feet. Thor
stood, with his two friends, looking down on Elden, who remained on the ground,
Reece’s sword at his throat.
    “You
touch my friend again,” Reece, deadly serious, said slowly to Elden, “and I
assure you, I will kill you.”
     

CHAPTER
SEVENTEEN
     
     
    Thor,
Reece, O’Connor, Elden, and Erec all sat on the ground, before a fire, forming
a circle around it. The five of them sat glum and silent, Thor surprised it
could be this cold on a summer night. There was just something about this
canyon, the chill, mystical winds that swirled around, down his back, and
mingled with the fog that never seemed to go away, which left him damp to the
bone. He leaned forward and rubbed his hands against the fire, unable to get them
warm.
    Thor
chewed on the piece of dried meat the others were passing around; it was tough
and salty, but somehow nourished him. Erec reached over and handed him
something and Thor felt a soft wineskin being pressed into his hand, the liquid
sloshing in it. It was surprisingly heavy as he raised it to his lips and
squirted it into the back of his mouth, for too long a time. He felt warm for
the first time that night.
    Everyone
was quiet, staring into the flames. Thor was still on edge, being on this side
of the Canyon, in enemy territory, still felt as if he should be on guard at
every moment, and marveled at how calm Erec seemed to be, as if he were
casually sitting in his own backyard. Thor was relieved, at least, to be out of
the Wilds, reunited with Erec, and sitting around the reassurance of a fire.
Erec watched the forest line, attentive to every little noise, yet confident
and relaxed. Thor knew that if any danger came, Erec would protect them all.
    Thor
felt content around the flames; he looked around and saw the others seemed
content, too—except, of course, for Elden, glum ever since returning from the
forest. He had lost his confident swagger from earlier in the day, and he sat
there, sour, without his sword. The commanders would never forgive such a
mistake—Elden would be kicked out of the Legion upon their return. He wondered
what Elden would do. He had a feeling he would not go down so easily, that he
had some trick, some backup plan, up his sleeve. Thor assumed that, whatever it
was, it would not be good.
    Thor
turned and followed Erec’s gaze to the distant horizon, in the southern
direction. There was a faint glow, an endless line as far as the eye could see,
that lit up the night. Thor wondered.
    “What
is it?” he finally asked Erec. “That glow? The one you keep staring at?”
    Erec
was silent for a long time, and the only sound was that of the whipping of the
wind. Finally, without turning, he said: “The Gorals.”
    Thor
exchanged a glance with the others, who looked back, fearful. Thor’s stomach
tightened at the thought of it. The Gorals. So close. There was nothing in
between them and him except for a simple forest and a vast plain. There was no
longer the great Canyon separating them, keeping them safe. All his life he had
heard